World Kingdom Warrior (3 Kingdoms - Book 0.5)

by Camille Picott

  ***

  As the months passed, Yi and the veterans fell into a routine.

  His friends slowly burned all the ruined furniture in the house. Lukai did the hunting. Peisau did the cooking. Jasu built several other shrines on the rock face behind the mansion and organized supplies for the coming winter. Fire Foot accompanied the men on their scouting rounds near the mansion. He was much happier now that he had the company of the men and their kylin.

  Yi avoided his friends, keeping to himself in the vault. He took the food they cooked and ate alone, not wanting to face the sympathy in their eyes and not wanting to hear their wisdom on how to deal with loss.

  He cast so many arrowheads that he ran out of room in the vault to store them. Jasu and the others turned the formal sitting room into a cache, reinforcing the walls, blocking the windows, and building a sturdy door. One of them produced a padlock, and they locked up all the arrowheads.

  Yi slept apart from them on his pallet in the vault. He fell asleep every night clutching Sei’s poetry journal in one hand and Jian’s bat pendant in the other. Each night, he forced himself to remember the way they had looked when he found them dead: Sei with her throat slashed, Jian with a black hole through her heart.

  It didn’t matter if his friends cleaned his house and tried to erase the evidence of the massacre. It didn’t matter if they prayed to absent gods. Yi would not let himself forget what had happened.

  v

  Mission

  The nip of autumn was in the air when Peisau came through the open vault doors. Yi looked up warily, wondering what the one-eyed man wanted. It was too early for lunch. Then he saw the letter tube Peisau carried in one hand.

  “The emperor?” Yi said, sliding a newly filled cast onto a shelf. “Has he sent word?”

  Peisau nodded and gestured for him to come upstairs, muttering something about not wanting to linger in a pit latrine. Yi made a face. Even though he used the privy now, the vault still maintained a particular odor after his days of confinement. Jasu, Lukai, and all the kylin stood in the now-empty study, waiting for him.

  “It’s addressed to you.” Peisau handed over the tube.

  Yi pulled out the parchment, snapped the yellow wax, and unrolled the message.

  Yi,

  I have, for the moment, avoided entangling us in the Sky Kingdom’s civil war. Roko continues to push me to enter into an alliance with Price Shiho. He is drowning in daydreams of glory.

  An envoy from Ailan, the Sky Kingdom princess, arrived yesterday at the palace and requested an audience. I sent him away without seeing him. I do not think it wise to entertain both Sky Kingdom factions in the House of Earth and Claw.

  However, I do not trust Lord Shiho. I would hear what message Princess Ailan has for me. You will meet with the envoy as my representative. He has a room at the Lotus Palace in Chong-chi and is expecting you. He will wear the mark of the God of Peace. Find out what the princess wants, and bring the information to me. Bring a delivery of arrowheads to make your visit look legitimate.

  Emperor Chen

  House of Earth and Claw

  Yi looked up from the letter, feeling ill.

  “I’m a soldier, not a diplomat,” he muttered, crumbling the letter in one fist. “What do I know of dealing with envoys?”

  “What are you saying?” Lukai leaned forward and poked Yi in the foot with his cane. “Speak up.”

  “I’ve been ordered by Emperor Chen to meet in secret with an envoy from Princess Ailan. She has a message for our emperor.” Yi scowled at nothing in particular. “Surely there is someone better suited to the task.”

  “Better?” Jasu raised an eyebrow at him. “Better at what? Better at observing the enemy?”

  “Better at listening and gathering intelligence in enemy territory?” Peisau said.

  Yi scratched his head. When they put it that way, it sounded like a real mission. Some of the tension left his shoulders. It would be a relief to have a mission, to be out on the road with Fire Foot and away from his well-meaning friends.

  “Diplomacy is a just another form of soldiering,” Lukai said. “The envoy is your mission.”

  Yi nodded, turning away from them.

  “Where are you going?” Jasu asked.

  “To pack my saddlebags,” Yi replied. He would observe the envoy of Princess Ailan. He would gather intelligence and take it back to his emperor.

  vi

  Birthday Gift

  “Keep your eyes closed,” Peony said.

  Tulip squeezed them as tightly as she could. “I can’t see, I promise!” she said. Just to be sure she didn’t accidentally peek, she covered her eyes with both hands.

  “Keep them closed. You don’t want to ruin your birthday surprise.”

  Tulip smelled her mother’s perfume as she neared the bed. Her dress made soft swishing sounds as she moved.

  “All right,” Peony said. “You can look now.”

  She dropped her hands and opened her eyes. Her mother stood before her in a pale green silk dress. In her hands was a wooden tray, and on the tray was a bowl of steaming liquid. Inside the bowl floated smooth white dumplings made from rice flour.

  “Sesame balls,” Tulip breathed. Her mouth watered at the sight of them.

  “Your favorite,” Peony said with a smile.

  Eyes wide, she looked up at her mother. “How did you get these?” Mistress Wang didn’t let anyone in the House of Flowers have sweets unless it was a holiday. She said too many sweets made the flowers fat.

  “I did a favor for Master Su and he helped me get them.” Peony sat on the bed and balanced the tray in her lap. “There are eight of them for your eighth birthday. Go ahead, eat.”

  Tulip reached into the bowl and plucked out a warm dumpling. She popped it into her mouth. Sugared sesame paste coated her tongue. It was the best. She closed her eyes and chewed slowly because if she chewed slowly the sesame ball would last longer.

  She and Peony sat together without talking. They ate all eight dumplings. When they were gone, Tulip picked up the bowl and drank the warm sugar water. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt and looked up.

  “Thank you for my birthday present, Mother,” she said, happy she could say Mother in the safety of Peony’s room. She liked it best when they were alone together.

  “You’re welcome.” Peony set the tray on the bed and stood up. “Now I have one last gift for you.”

  “More?” Tulip could hardly believe it.

  “One more,” Peony said. “I am going to tell you the answer to your favorite question.”

  Tulip sat up straight. “You’re going to tell me how to make special tofu?”

  “No.” Her mother looked angry, but then she smoothed down the pleats of her dress and looked happy again. “Not that, Tulip. Not until you are twelve. For your eighth birthday, I have something even more special. Stay on the bed while I get it.” She crouched down and leaned under her dressing table. Her hair, which Tulip had coiled on top of her head, bumped against the bottom.

  “Don’t mess up your hair!” She had worked hard on that coil.

  Peony didn’t say anything. Her face was turned away, her hands working at the underside of the dressing table. There was a soft click, then the sound of wood scraping against wood.

  Peony grinned as she scooted out from under the dressing table. Her crystal beads clinked from their perch in the tall hair coil. In her hands she held a small box with no lid.

  “A hidden compartment,” she whispered.

  Tulip leaned forward for a better look. Inside the box was a folded piece of paper. Peony pulled it out and set down the compartment tray.

  “I’ve always wanted to show this to you,” she said, still whispering. “Mistress Wang will beat me if she finds out I have it. You must never tell anyone. Do you promise?”

  “I promise, Mother.”

  She held her breath as Peony unfolded the paper. Inside was an ink sketch of a man. He looked st
range. He had short hair. She had never seen short hair except on very old men who were mostly bald, but the man in the picture wasn’t that old. And he wore a strange tight shirt that had no sleeves and buttoned up the front.

  “What question does this answer?” She wrinkled her nose, trying to remember if she’d ever asked about a funny-looking man.

  “This, Tulip, is your father.” Peony gazed down at the picture and had the biggest smile on her face.

  “You said you didn’t know who my father was.” Tulip was confused. “You told me to stop asking about him because you didn’t know the answer.”

  “You were too young to know the truth. I had to keep it a secret from you in case Mistress Wang ever found out. But now that you are eight, I can trust you to keep a secret.”

  Tulip studied the picture. She’d always wondered what her father looked like. Every once in a while there would be a nice man who came into the House of Flowers, one who wasn’t rude or fat or ugly. She liked to pretend her father was like those men. But the man in the picture didn’t look like any man she had ever seen in the house before.

  “What was he like, Mother?”

  “He was a kind man. He was good to me.”

  “Why didn’t he marry you?”

  “He died, Tulip.” Peony’s eyes filled with tears, but she wiped them away before they spilled onto her cheeks.

  Tulip twisted the hem of her shirt. Her father couldn’t have been a very nice man if he died and left Peony so sad.

  “Why does he look funny?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” Peony pulled the paper away and held it close to her chest.

  “He has hair like an old man and wears strange clothes.”

  Peony folded the picture and placed it back in the box. “No more questions today, Tulip. I have shared something special and you have not said a nice word.”

  Tulip noticed her blinking back tears again. She felt bad for saying her father had hair like an old man. Peony had gotten her special sesame balls and shared the picture, and Tulip had just said mean things.

  “Thank you for showing me what my father looks like,” she said. “It is the best birthday present ever. Even better than the sesame balls. My father looks nice, even if he does have short hair.”

  Peony’s tears dried and she looked happy again. “He was so kind to me, Tulip. So kind. I wish you could have known him.”